Sea of Warmth
Left my phone up on the towel with my whole entire life.
Walked in up to my shoulders,
wearing nothing but the night.
The sea's been saving warmth all day like it knew that I
would come.
Two a.m. and finally
— finally
— the temperature of someone.
Midnight swim, midnight swim,
the only cool that's warm.
A thousand miles of silver water,
nobody to inform.
The moon lays down a road on it I'm too smart to
believe
— but I'm floating on my back right now,
and I might never leave.
Every little movement writes in light nobody reads.
The day can have the beaches.
The night keeps what it needs.
Midnight swim, midnight swim,
the only cool that's warm.
Shhh.
Don't tell the morning.
Don't tell the morning
where I've been.